


Hi skool

by johnnyjakjohn



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Beta Wanted, Childhood Trauma, High School, I think it'll just be between Dib and Gaz, Looking for Beta Readers, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Multiple, Personal Growth, Post-Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, Slow Burn-ish, Tak is bak, They won't get in the way, What is this tagging ahhh, Zim is good now, alternate universe but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnyjakjohn/pseuds/johnnyjakjohn
Summary: ”I didn’t make you believe that I was done with you, did I?”A blast from the past with (supposedly) cruel intentions forces Dib, Zim, and Gaz to confront old demons, as well as new ones.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. We're so different now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is kinda a passion project for me. I wanted to take the characters of the show and put them in some lower stakes situations while mostly adhering to the universe’s canon. I’m very much feeling this out as I go, so, yeah. Hope you enjoy!

Zim and I promised each other that we’d break out of our shells this year, which basically meant joining some small, meager gaming club. I get up out of my chair, and take a breath before introducing myself. “Hi, I’m Dib Membrane, and I’m eighteen years old!” My voice squeaks in between a few of the syllables. 

Zim is next to me, cross-legged. “Really? That’s all you have to say to them?”

“Well, what else is there?”

“You're so boring. Watch and learn, Dib-human.” Zim jumps on top of his chair. “Hello, I’m Invade--” He stutters. I stare at him with the most unimpressed look on my face. “I’m Zim.”

After the meeting wraps up I nudge his shoulder. “I really loved your introduction,” I say. “Old habits?” I nudge him again.

Zim gives me a side eye. “Oh shut up. Like your’s was _so_ amazing!”

We still fight these days, but it’s more play fighting, the emphasis being on the _play_ , and not on the _fighting_. “You still down to play some video games?”

Zim scratches his head. “I told GIR I’d take him to the new yogurt place across town.”

“ _Vegan Smegan_?” I hoist my backpack over my shoulder as he ruffles through his locker.

“Yup,” he responds, while glancing at the clock hanging in the main hallway. GIR will get upset if Zim’s not on time. I instinctively understand.

“How can it be vegan if it’s yogurt?” I ask. He gets his books and we start walking our way towards the parking lot.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what vegan means,” Zim says.

“It’s like, people who don’t eat animal-based products.”

“Oh. This store is a paradox! Ehh, GIR’s still gonna love it.” Zim stops staring at me, turning his attention to Gaz, who is outside, chatting it up with the other soccer girls. “Gaz!” he says, letting out a deep scream. Zim runs up to her, and I speed walk to catch up.

Gaz twitches before turning her attention to us. She’s already changed out of her school clothes and into her captain’s uniform. She grimaces before forcing a smile. “Zim,” she says, glancing to see the faces of her teammates.

“Are we all still going shopping this weekend?” Zim asks. One of the girls looks shocked, as though my sister would ever talk to us. I lean against the wall. 

“Course.” Her face goes back to being neutral.

“I’m really _really_ excited!” Zim jitters in place, making all kinds of squishy sounds.

“You still hang out with your dweeb brother and his friend?” A girl asks, chuckling.

Gaz twists her neck to force direct eye contact with the girl. “You got a problem, Stephanie?”

“No, I mean--”

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up,” Gaz says to everybody. They nod before beginning to jog over to the field. “Anything else?”

“It’s your turn to cook tonight,” I tell her.

Gaz’s eyes widen before going back to normal. “Shit, I forgot. We’ll be out until eight tonight. Cover for me?”

“You're getting microwave pizza,” I respond.

“Gaz!” A soccer girl yells. 

“Gimme a minute!” She yells back. “Okay. Zim, I’ll see you.” She turns to look at me. “I’ll see you at home.”

“See ya,” Zim says, waving bye to us like a madman.

I drive home. Dad still hasn’t come back.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly an introduction. There’s gonna be a lot more goin on in the next one.


	2. Saturdays

“I hate this on me.” Gaz is trying clothes on, while Zim and GIR snoop through the rows of clothes. I’m sitting on the couch across from her.

“You look great!” I say, smiling. I mean it! Gaz has never looked better. She actually goes outside, so she’s no longer super pale. Unlike me, she’s avoided pimples. She and I have become less freakish looking since puberty. My head no longer seems so gigantic, thank God…

“Uhh, gross,” Gaz responds, giving me a scowl. She turns around and shuts the curtain. “I don’t wanna hear my brother saying that. Just send Zim in here.” She somehow manages to throw a random dress directly at my face before I have a second to respond.

“Okay,” I say, voice muffled by the fabric. I shove the dress on one of the racks before going out to find Zim. He’s shuffling between multiple hoodies, eyes locked and focused. GIR is running wild, dashing in between all of the aisles. “Gaz wants you to help her.”  
  


“Oh?”

“She can’t find something she likes,” I say. 

“Well then, I’ll go help her,” Zim responds, flipping a smirk before shoving two hoodies, one green, the other yellow, in front of me. “First, which one?”

“Does it really matter?” I’m starting to think shopping for clothes isn’t my thing.

“I must have the best hoodie! Only the best!” Zim shouts. We stare at each other for a moment before he puts them down by his sides, cooling down. “I just want to look nice.”

“Green, obviously. It matches your...skin?”  
  


“Okie dokie.” Zim looks over to find GIR. “GIR! Come over here!”

“Yessir!” The robot responds, cartwheeling towards Zim’s feet.

We all walk back to the fitting room. “You called?” Zim says.

Gaz opens the curtain, wearing the white dress from earlier, paired with black combat boots. “How do you think this looks?” 

Zim looks her up and down, hand under his chin, like a soldier scanning for enemy weak points. “You look great,” he concludes.

“Thanks.” Gaz says. “I think I’m gonna buy it.” 

I do a double take before proceeding to throw my hands up. “I said the same exact thing! What the fuck!”

“Maybe she just values my opinion more,” Zim says.

Gaz ends up getting the dress, as well as several makeup palettes, but only before making sure no one from Skool is around. Zim snags the hoodie, and some alien-themed socks (“I can’t believe they couldn’t get the eyes right! _Blasphemy_!”), while I buy a clearance-rack t-shirt. We start to walk over the food court. As we’re going Gaz’s phone gets a buzz. 

“It’s dad.” she says as she opens up her phone. She puts it up to her ear as I try to figure out what she’s hearing. Of course he would call her. I’m not surprised, but it’s still a huge disappointment. Like, I’m his son, too! I’m never gonna be what Gaz is to him, but c’mon. I’ve come a long way! He would see that if he was around. Anyways, Gaz shoves her phone back into her bag, letting out a sigh. “He won’t be back until February,” she says, not a hint of emotion in her inflection. I don’t know how she does it.

Zim is in between us two, looking back and forth, trying to understand. “I mean, did you expect sooner?” I respond.

“No, just,” Gaz says to me, before balling one of her hands up into a fist. “Whatever.”

“Would you two like slushies?” Zim is patient, waiting for us to answer. GIR is bouncing on a sofa ahead of us.

Without thinking my mouth falls open, slightly confused. “Uhh…”

Zim scratches his wig. “Isn’t it a thing you humans do? When someone is sad. Get them something?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Gaz says. She sticks a finger through her hair and starts twirling. 

“Then let’s get slushies.” 

“Alright,” Gaz and I say in unison.

The lines are long. Excruciatingly long. I wouldn’t be surprised if waiting in line was some sort of old Irken torture technique. Gaz taps her feet, Zim whistles, and I sway side to side. GIR is hanging from Zim’s shopping bag, humming off-rhythm to whatever Zim is whistling. Eventually Gaz snaps. She isn’t built to be patient.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” she tells us.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

I hate waiting. It’s a waste of time, but more importantly, it’s a waste of _my_ time. They’ll all be fine without me anyways. Zim and Dib can entertain each other for _hours_. I’ll never get over it.

I walk over towards the railing, looking down at everybody below. They all look so insignificant, really. It’s pathetic.

“Do I know you?” Her hair is long, parted to both sides. She’s wearing dark horn rim sunglasses, and has parked herself right next to me. It’s as though she came out of nowhere.

“I don’t know,” I say back. She has an accent, and she seems annoying. “Do _you_?”

“I asked first,” she says. She _is_ annoying.

“I don’t know.”

She grimaces. “You said that already.”

“I don’t remember everyone I meet. Maybe you were too forgettable.” My tone is cold.

She pouts before going contorting her face into a smile. “Well, I do know you, and if you don’t remember me, you will. You’ll _definitely_ be seeing me around,” she says before letting out a nasty-sounding laugh. She dips her sunglasses in my direction before vanishing into thin air.

I look around to see if anyone saw what I saw, but they’re all clueless. Wait, was that--maybe I _do_ remember her. But I can’t place the name.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“What flavor are you going to get?”

“Hmm?” Zim’s question snaps me out of my trance. GIR’s humming has since evolved into antsy shrieks, much like a baby. It’s slowly making me go insane. “Oh, umm, let’s see.” I try to see the menu from across the waves and waves of people. “Blue raspberry.”

  
“That’s like the worst one.”

“You're just saying that because it’s the one I like!” I say, sounding all whiny. I bite my lip.

Zim’s eyes narrow, staring me down. “Cherry is superior and will _always_ remain superior.”

With the corner of my eye I catch Gaz walking back towards us. I suddenly notice that GIR’s shrieks have mysteriously disappeared. “Zim, where’s GIR?”

“He’s--” GIR is dashing across the food court, running towards a Chicky Licky booth. “GIR!” Zim starts to chase after him.

Gaz taps me on the shoulder. “Hey what was that girl called?”

I continue to stare in GIR and Zim’s direction. GIR has jumped onto the cashier, violently shaking them for chicken. “What girl?”

“The one who tried to take Zim’s job,” Gaz says.

My shoulders stiffen and I get a lump in my throat. “T-T-Tak?”

“Her, yeah. I just spoke to her.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. New new girl

“My name’s Tak. I’m not really from around _here_.” 

It’s much less convincing the second time around. Part of me is truly scared. Tak isn’t like Zim—she isn’t reformed. She was a true threat. My skin crawls just thinking about her almost takeover all those years ago. 

Tak walks to sit in the seat behind Zim, earning a glance from a boy next to her. I watch from the back of the class, waiting. I’m biting my nails. 

“You're _pretty_ ,” the boy says, drooling.

“I’d like it if you’d leave me alone,” she responds, a flicker shining from one eye to the other. She’s still got that mind control chip, I guess. Hmm. ‘Flicker’? That’s a good name for it. The boy walks out of the classroom, ignoring Mr. Wright, who’s distracted.

Zim, shaking throughout this whole situation, finally turns around. “If you think you're going to take my place as Earth’s invader then you're sorely mistaken,” he hisses.

“I don’t want your position, Zim. And can you even call yourself an invader anymore? I mean, you're practically the textbook definition of a smercher!” she loudly whispers. I want to do something, but I can’t . Damn it. Tak looks pleased with herself.

Zim grows red in the face. “What did you just call me?”

“A smer--”

Zim stands up next to his seat. All eyes shift onto him. Mr. Wright turns around to stare, previously focusing on writing on the board. “I heard _you_ the first time. You monster, how dare you say that! That _word_! That is cruel, and wrong, that is--a lie!”

Mr. Wright’s face changes from confusion to anger. “Zim, we do not bully the new girl!”

“But Mr. Wright--”  
  


“I know you and many of the other students had a subpar education prior to attending this institution, but I’m not about to let you all slip into your old ways,” Mr. Wright says, cutting Zim off. “Apologize to Tak.”

Zim turns to Tak. She’s smug. “I...apologize.”

“Thank you, Zim. Tak, I hope you know that we’re all much better than this,” Mr. Wright says.

Tak waves one of her hands around. “Oh, it’s fine. One bad apple won’t spoil the bunch.”

Zim looks defeated. He doesn’t speak until lunch. “I can’t stand her, existing with that look on her face!” He blurts out as he watches me eat.

“What, when she does the--” I take a finger and move it across my left eye to my right, mimicking Tak’s flicker.

“No, her smile that makes it look like she’s won! She hasn’t won a _thing_. She’s no match for us, for _Zim_!” Zim’s coming off angry, but I think he’s mostly sad. Once he’s done shouting he’s got this lost look in his eyes, like he doesn’t know where any of this is going. I can’t blame him.

“We don’t even know why she’s here,” I say before biting into my sandwich.

“She’s here to spite me!”  
  


The rest of Saturday and Sunday before Tak’s Monday arrival was spent trying to piece together what was going on. Zim tried to find a way to track her, and Gaz and I checked her old hideout. The remains of the Deelishus Weenie building run by Tak had remained just that. Remains. If she was living on Earth it, it had to be somewhere new. “I don’t know if there’s much that we _can_ do right now.”

“What do you mean?” Zim asks.

“Well, Zim, as much as I don't like her, she hasn’t really done anything super duper bad. She spooked or, well, she _tried_ to spook Gaz, and she called you a smer-” 

Zim shoves his hand onto my mouth. My eyes look at him in confusion. “Don’t say that word.” After a couple seconds he takes it off. 

“What’s so bad about it anyways?” I glance over at Gaz’s table. She’s making all of the girls laugh, even though I can’t recall the last time she’s cracked a joke.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, well, if you want to, you know I’m around,” I say before winking. Zim lets out a warm smile.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello, I’d like to try out for the soccer team.” Tak is fully dressed in workout clothing. The kneepads are a bit much.

She’s really, _really_ pushing it. First she shows up, out of nowhere, and now she’s trying to worm her way onto _my_ team. “We’re not accepting new members at this time,” I respond.

“Umm, we totally are, there’s like flyers all over school!” Of course Stephanie has to tell her.  
  


“Four laps, Stephanie,” I say, remaining apathetic. It’d make me smile to see her run fifty, watching the little stubs she calls her legs give out under the pressure.  
  


“But Gaz!” Stephanie screams. The rest of the team looks over at the commotion, but I shoot daggers at them all. They quickly go back to acting as though it’s business as usual.

“Let’s make it eight.”

“Okay...” Stephanie grimaces and then goes off to jog. Part of me wishes she kept going with the backtalk. 

I turn my glance back to Tak. “I’ll bite. You can join the team. You just gotta score a goal on _me_ ,” I say.

“That sounds quite fair to me,” Her hand is on her hip, and she has a tempered smile.

There’s no way in hell that she can beat me. I’ve been training for years, and I didn’t even need years to get good. I walk over to the goal, motioning for one of the girls to get Tak a ball. I slip on gloves and get into position. “When I blow the whistle, you can shoot. Are we clear?”

“Crystal!” Tak shouts, louder than she needs to. She’s trying to make this into a thing. I’m not having it.

I plant my feet down, and crack my knuckles. I blow my whistle.

Tak, within a millisecond of the sound reaching her, launches the ball, causing it to fly at me. I can see it with enough distance to react, and shift myself to the left. The ball, in some strange ignorance of physics, zig-zags it’s way to the far right. I tilt my head and throw myself in the ball’s direction, but the ball course-corrects back to hitting the left side of the goal. Shit.

“I made it in! Go me!” Tak says. I can only lay on the ground, eyes wide.

“The new girl scored one on Gaz!” quickly spreads across the field, causing an eruption of voices. _Shit._

I get up, dust myself, and go to “congratulate” Tak. “I guess you're on the team, or whatever.” 

“I guess so, or _whatever_ ,” she responds, before letting out that _fucking disgusting_ laugh of hers.

Bitch.


	4. I don't want to go there

Gaz slams the door behind her, shoving her coat and bag down onto our mounted rack so hard it nearly rips out of the wall.

“Tough day?” I’m watching TV, feet kicked up.

“She’s joining the soccer team,” Gaz replies, breathing heavy.

“Ummf--” I choke on a piece of popcorn before punching it out of me. “Say  _ what _ ?”

Clembrane walks out of the kitchen, bowl in one hand. “Dinner!” We try to make sure he cooks as little as possible. 

The meal is persimmon pudding. Gaz and I sit at opposite sides, with Clembrane continuing to make more and more of the stuff. It looks...edible. 

“I couldn’t stop her. She pulled some trick during her tryout,” Gaz says.

I crack my neck, take a deep breath, and take my first nibble of the pudding. “Do you have any clue what she's doing? Cuz, I have no clue, and Zim is on edge. And we need a plan, Gaz, like now.” I’m speaking out of the side of my mouth.

“I think she’s just toying with us.” Gaz says.

“Really?”   
  


“If she wanted to conquer the world, wouldn’t she have already? She could do it if she wanted to. It took four of us just to beat her and her robot, remember?”

“That’s true!” I take another nibble. Gaz is already almost finished. “You know, you’re really smart, Gaz,” I say, wagging my spoon in her direction. She stares back at me for a moment before finally shouting.

  
“I’m finished with my pudding!” Clembrane walks over to Gaz’s side of the table.

“You sure you don’t want more, sweetie?” He asks.

“Nope, I’m  _ super _ full.” Gaz rubs her stomach. “I don’t think I could take another serving.”

“O-kay.” Clembrane believes nearly everything we tell him. Gaz starts to get up.

“So we’re not gonna do anything?” I ask her.

“She’s probably been watching us for awhile. We might as well return the favor, you know?” She places her plate in the kitchen and then starts walking up the stairs, quietly grumbling. “I’ll watch her alright. I’m gonna make her _ pay _ …” Typical Gaz.

I help Clembrane clean up before going to take a shower. As I’m halfway through combing in my conditioner I start hearing a faint yell.

“Hey!”   
  


I’m blasting Talking Heads, so it doesn’t really register. It could be anything. 

“Hey!”

I wonder about how Zim’s doing. I’m not saying he tells me everything, but he tells me a  _ lot _ . Gross stuff, random tidbits. He’ll ask the most taboo question, insisting that he wants to learn about human culture.

“Hey!”

I don’t mind it, in fact, I enjoy it! He’s as curious about the world as I am. This “smercher” thing, though? I can’t help him with that. I don’t know what it means. It’s pretty close to the word besmirch, which usually means to tarnish someone’s reputation, but--

“Hey Dib-” A laser shoots out of the open window, blasting a hole through the wall. I duck for a moment, but then I peek my head out of the shower, glancing through the glass, which has singe marks at the edges. Zim’s standing in my backyard.

“Why didn’t you just knock?!” I ask.

“Because I didn’t want to cause a scene!”   
  


“Why didn’t you just call?!” 

“You use your phone in the shower! That would be rude.” 

I glance over at Gaz, who was playing on her Game Slave Eight in the room over. “Idiots,” she says, before walking off.

I throw on a towel and look down at Zim. “You're paying for that.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” He says, waving me off. “Just get dressed so we can talk.”   


I put on black jeans, boots, a t-shirt I got from the International Bigfoot Conference (memories!), and my glasses. I run my hair through a towel, put on some gel, and rush out the door. Zim is standing next to the curb. He’s wearing that hoodie, the one I suggested from Saturday. I was wrong. Green on green is kind of terrible. Still, he makes it work. Well, at least  _ I _ think he does.

“What’s up?” I say, jogging up to him.

We both start to walk. “Have you rescinded that offer you made earlier today?” Zim asks.

“I don’t think so. Something you wanna say?” 

Zim begins to look away from me. “A smercher is an Irken who’s fallen in love with the planet they're invading. It’s--it’s the worst thing you can call us. It’s worse than being called short, or stupid, or even--emotional. You’re the lowest of the low. Defective.” He kicks a rock. He’s frowning.

“And you don’t like that Tak called you that cuz?” I ask.

  
“I don’t like it because it--it’s true. She knows it, and I know it, and now you know it. Everyone knows it!” Zim says, waving his hands all around. He scoffs. “That I’ve gotten soft.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”   
  


“Well it’s not traditionally a  _ good _ thing, Dib. No Irken gets hatched out of their incubation capsule saying, ‘Hey, I’m gonna disobey my Tallest when I grow up big and strong!’. No one, Dib! No-body.”

“I mean, no human baby is born saying, ‘I’m gonna be friends with an alien!’. We can’t even talk when we’re born,” I point out.

“Probably due to your species’s lack of intelligence.” Zim says back, before chuckling.

My eyebrows raise. “We can make noises, at that age! And communicate nonverbally,” I say, voice squeaky. The sky is a deep, vortex-like orange.

“Do  _ you _ think that I’m defective?” Zim blurts out. The question lands like some gigantic meteor crash-landing into the bedrock below us. 

“Of course I don’t. Being different...it doesn’t make you bad Zim.” He’s looking at me now, waiting. I swear I can see his ruby-colored eyes behind those contacts he’s forced to wear. “I like you more now. I like us  _ way _ more now. We’ve come a long way y’know?” I’m smiling. The emotion on his face goes from neutral to unease.

“Yeah.” I think he knows what I’m about to say.

“Remember when we used to try to kill each other?” I ask. The subject matter makes it seem a little impossible, but it’s still worth trying; I try to make it come off like a joke. I think we should be able to talk about it in jokes. Enough time has passed.

“I’d rather we not go into that right now.” He’s staring at whatever’s in the distance. He sounds piercingly serious.

“Okay,” I say. I try to switch the subject. “So...back to Tak. Gaz and I are just gonna observe her for now. That seem like something you can go along with?”

“Yup yup,” Zim says.

“Cool, cool.” I tap my fingers together. We finish our walk around the block.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer than usual to finish this one. I wanted to make sure I got the dialogue *just* right. Next one should be up sooner.


	5. Threading the needle

* * *

I see my reflection in a side mirror for a brief second. I look _horrible_ \--purple hair mashed against my face. My eyes haven’t gotten all bloody yet. I’ve only just started.

I go over where everyone is in my head. Our game got rained out, Clembrane is at a cooking convention and Dib’s gonna be off hunting for I don’t know--a three-headed unicorn? He’s going with--you guessed it. _Zim._ They're so chummy, aren’t they? I kind of love Dib’s stupid hobbie right now, how it’s coming in handy. I should enable him more often. “ _Please go out and look for those things that definitely exist! I totally believe in you!_ ” As if.

“Match starts in thirty seconds,” the TV says.

I rush to close all of the blinds, throw a bunch of snacks onto the coffee table, and then quickly put on my headset. “Let’s _go_!” I’m gonna fucking game until my eyeballs fall out. Life is...good?

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“Hi GIR. Is Zim ready?” I’ve got the car parked out front. I’m kind of dragging. Gaz was really insistent on me leaving early. Kinda odd.

GIR gives a blank, chaotic stare. “Oh, won’t you take care of my boy? He can’t handle his _feelings_!” He starts crying, and then starts slamming his fists into the ground. “I’ve tried everything. _Everything_!”

I tilt my head. “Huh?”

GIR stops the tantrum and goes back to neutral. “I dunno. Did you bring bacon?”

I shuffle through my jacket. “No, but I think I have a sauce packet in here somewhere…” I pull it out and toss it at him. He chomps it down, plastic wrapping and all. 

“Mhm,” he hums. “I still don’t know.”

We stand there for a minute before Zim shows up, wearing a black and pink windbreaker. “Hey,” he says, sticking one of his hands up and waving. He seems chipper.

“You ready?” I ask with a smirk.

“I was _born_ ready.”

The drive out of The City takes a while. We argue over what cryptid to search for. “It doesn’t have to be something major,” I say.

“Silence! Lemme, lemme just flip through this book.” He settles on the Kraken.

“We could just do something easy like Bigfoot,” I say. Bigfoot is kind of child’s play for me, but still. I turn off the turnpike, hoping Zim will side with me. We’re in rural country, at least for a moment. I spot a cow.

“That beast...it looks so strong, so _powerful_ ! Don’t you wanna search for that, Dib?” He’s buzzing in his seat, pushing _The Encyclopedia For Cryptids and Other Mysterious Creatures_ in my face.

“I mean-- _fine_.” I make a U-turn. 

We end up making our way to a port an hour away from home. It’s slightly sunny, slightly cloudy. I park in a supermarket lot. “Snacks?” Zim asks, gesturing the store.

“Snacks.” 

Zim rushes for the chip aisle. The cashier gives me an odd look. I shrug. “I’ll take you, and you, and _you_!” Zim snatches up three huge bags of cheese puffs. 

“You're really gonna eat all of those?” I yawn and stretch my arms out. I feel like putty.

Zim stops buzzing around and gives me a concerned glance. “Are you okay? You seem--”

“Tired?” I say.

“I was going to say worn out, but that works too.” Zim scans me up and down. 

“Yeah…” I scratch the back of my head. “I guess I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” I say.

“Oh. Okay.”

I _am_ tired, but I’ll own up to it. I’ve had his words on loop all week. “ _I’d rather not go into that right now._ ” The way they just rolled off of his tongue. I can handle those words in that combination. I can handle them in a vacuum. They don’t _seem_ special. From Dad, Gaz, I wouldn’t care. Just, coming from him? It hurts more than I’d like to admit. It just makes me feel like we haven’t really changed. 

We walk towards the checkout. “10.14,” the cashier says to me. I rustle for the cash.

“You sure there’s nothing else going on?” Zim asks.

“Here you go,” I say, paying. I turn over to Zim. “I’m fine! Don’t worry.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m still happy to see him. Spend time with him, all of that. It’s just been gnawing at me. I throw on a smile and hope that does the trick.

We walk out of the store. Still overcast. “Now, where would we even start?” Zim asks.

  
“How about the dock?” I say, tossing the plastic bag at him.

“ _Yes_! Great idea.”

If anyone would have seen a gigantic cephalopod, it’d be one of the sailors. We chat a couple up, but none seem interested. I catch one man staring at us out of the corner of our eye, and nudge Zim. “That guy. Look.” He is wearing a long fur coat, with a gigantic narwhal horn hanging from his neck. Of course he has an eye patch, because why wouldn’t he? People _really_ are strange looking. I know I’m not exactly one to talk, ex-big head, but still. Unbelievable.

“Does he know that I’m a--no, he can’t possibly,” Zim says. He and I saunter over to the man.

A couple of moments pass. I’m a bit too overwhelmed to say anything. This guy is huge, and I mean, _huge_. He looks like ten little kids stacked on top of each other. He grumbles, before turning to Zim and opening his mouth. “Say, boy, you got some new type of scurvy?”

Zim skins visibly shudders as his eyebrows furrow. “Scurvy? Why I--” He stops himself before leaning his mouth into my ear. “What’s scurvy?” 

“Sickness,” I say, succinctly.

Zim darts back to the man. “I’ll have you know that I am one of the finest specimens of humankind! You would be stupid to think I was _anything_ but healthy!” His arms are flailing, and he sounds like a banshee.

The man only stares. No response, at least not quick enough. “They call me Marland. Think ya’ can keep up?” the man says, breaking his own silence. 

“Keep up with what?” I ask, confused.

Marland right eye twitches. Pus comes out. Zim and I wince. 

“Uhh, would you happen to know anything about this creature?” I pull a small illustration out of my pocket of the Kraken, and show it to him.

“We were never the same after that,” Marland grumbles.

“Pardon?” Zim asks, tapping his feet. He’s getting annoyed.

“I’ll take yer’ fellers’ on, but there ain’t no guarantee that we’ll be back.”

I look over to Zim for support. He nods. “I think we can handle ourselves. So we can go right now?” I ask.

“Get on.” Marland gestures to his boat, which looks like several beat-up pieces of driftwood poorly stuck together.

“Thanks,” I say, as I walk onto the ship.

“Yeah, thanks, _Marland_ ,” Zim says, as he sends the man a long cruel death stare, neck veins popping.

We start to drift away from the pier. I lean over the side, Zim next to me. “Oh yeah, are you prepared? You know. In case we get hit by a tide.”

“You underestimate me,” Zim says. A small bucket comes out of Zim’s PAK before proceeding to dump a see-through liquid on him. I jolt back for a second. “As you can see, I tinkered around with the chemical formula in paste.”

“You look...glossy.”  
  


“Thank you.” Zim looks satisfied.

I suddenly feel tired. _Super_ tired. More than before. I move to sit down before yawning. “I think I’m gonna take a nap,” I say.

“Alrighty.”

“Just make sure that nothing crazy happens, okay? I don’t want us--” I’m asleep before I can even finish. It only feels as though it’s been a minute. Not _even_! I blink awake. I’m in one of the ship’s rooms. We’re in the midst of a storm, judging by the rattling on the window. I rush out towards the front of the deck, where I find Marland and Zim. “What happened?!” I ask Zim, shouting, tugging on his jacket. Thunder is booming around us.

“He said he found the Kraken!” Zim says. We’re shouting.

“I’ll make it up to you, old friend! I can still write my wrongs!” Marland yells, spinning the wheel psychotically.

“He’s been talking like this for awhile,” Zim says, sounding concerned. The ship dips and I get a huge splash to my face.

“Well, has he?” I ask.

“Has he what?!” 

“Found the Kraken!” I yell. My ears start ringing.

Zim only shakes his head. 

“We need to get back to shore, before--” The ship sways violently again. “Oh, shit.” 

Zim turns so we’re both looking in the same direction “Wha--oh.” We let out one of those throaty cartoon screams. It doesn’t help.

A _humongous_ wave is hurtling towards us. I grab Zim by the arm and walk up to Marland.  
“Get us out of here, Marland! This is insane!” 

“I can’t! I’m so close!” 

The wind shoves Zim into my chest. “We’re all going to die!” I say, screeching.

“Nothing matters, just this,” Marland whispers, eyes locked in the wave’s direction. It’s getting closer.

I let out a huge sigh before turning to Zim. “You’re gonna need to get us out of this, Zim,” I say.

“ _How_?” Zim asks.

“Do something with your PAK! Anything!” 

He looks at me for a moment. He blinks twice, before glancing at his PAK. “Hold me over the ship,” he says.

“Fine.” I pick him up and practically jump over to the ship’s edge. Four boosters pop out of his PAK, shooting us and the ship upward at a lopsided angle. Marland is sent flying, crashing into the ship’s hold.

"You better be holding onto me tight!” Zim shouts.

“You know I am!” I shout back. I’ve closed my eyes. This is kinda insane.

I hear the wave crash below us. “Can’t...keep....going...ship...too much...weight!” Zim gives out and I pull him into my arms. He’s alarmingly hot.

I think this would be the right time to mention that for as scary this whole thing is, it is also extremely exciting. We haven’t gone on an adventure like this, not in a long time. I should let Zim pick more often, huh?  
  


We start to crash down, landing with an epic splash. Zim and I both cough up water. “Are we dead?” Zim asks.

I look around. The storm’s passed. “Uhh, actually, we’re pretty good. Are you--”

“ _Tired_. I’m tired,” he moans. He puts his tongue out, all dramatic. 

I take him into one of the rooms inside and place him on a bed. “I’m gonna check up on Marland.” Zim twitches. He’ll survive.

I find Marland stuck in between a bunch of boxes, flushed. His coat looks shriveled. “Are you going to take us back _now_?”

“F-f-fine,” he says, shivering. I reach for his arm and pull him up. 

The ride back is peaceful, well, as peaceful as being on a deathtrap of a ship can be. Zim eventually gets up and joins me on the back deck. He looks at me. I look back. 

“He thought the Kraken was his friend, the imbecile. That his actions somehow transformed the other person into a beast,” Zim says.

  
“Well, he definitely has one heck of an imagination, I’ll say that,” I say.

“He wasn’t completely wrong, Dib.”

I tilt my head. “How so?”

  
  
“I mean--” Zim stammers. “There was probably a friend, and they didn’t agree, and he for whatever reason couldn’t own up to whatever things he did.” 

“Possibly,” I say.

Zim’s face scrunches up. “I--I don’t want you to turn into the Kraken!”

“What? You're joking, right?”

“I mean, yes and no? I don’t want to end up like... _him_ ,” Zim says, pointing one of his fingers back in Marland’s direction. I can faintly hear the guy’s grumblings. “But I also don’t want you to be like his friend, where you just disappear, and I’m just left chasing after you.” Zim throws his arms over the boat. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Zim’s words echo in my head. “ _I’d rather we not go into that right now._ ” I feel a stinging in my left side.

“For, I don’t know, never being as ready as you are, or have been!” Zim shouts, voice stopping and starting. 

“Why now?” 

“I’ve been researching, okay? I know you’ve been upset,” Zim says. He’s looking right at me.

I open my mouth to say something before shutting it.

“I should be able to ‘exercise proper communication skills which facilitate an open dialogue’.”

“You sound like a computer,” I say, chuckling. 

“An empathetic computer, though, hmm? _Hmm_?” Zim nudges me.

“Yeah,” I say before nodding. I look down and see our reflections in the water.

“I haven’t been the most...accepting of our past. It’s hard for me, but I’m sure it’s been hard for you too, Dib.” Zim starts looking down too. “Just, hard all around.”

“It has been,” I say. I sound sadder than I’d like to.

“And I know I can’t keep using being Irken as an excuse. I just...I need more time.”

I look over at him. “Okay.”

Zim jumps up. “So we’re good?!” 

“Yeah, we’re go--”

Zim pulls me in for a hug. Tight. That feels good, _w_ _ow_.

“I read this is what humans do after they reconcile,” Zim whispers.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” I whisper back. I get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I lied when I said the next one was gonna come soon, lol. I've been looking at this one for waaaaaaay too long. At least it's a bit on the long side for me, right? I just need to post it or I'll never keep this story going. The ending was partially inspired from an animation I saw on Tumblr. I really wanted Dib and Zim to sorta get on the same page, and have them go on an adventure, and I think this was a decent way of accomplishing those goals? Anyways, the next chapter's pretty much done already, but I WONT say it'll be out soon. I don't wanna jinx it.
> 
> EDIT: I'm also considering changing the title of this fic, so, yeah.


	6. Not so different

It’s weird. Irkens aren't very different, at least aesthetically, from humans. Sure, they're green and have antennas and PAKs and all, but they’ve got hands and feet and a head on top. I never really took the time to consider it. Zim takes his shirt off and puts on another. I peek away before he can notice, putting on my own gym clothes to make myself seem busy. We eventually move through the locker room and go sit down on the bleachers. “Maybe she should've joined the basketball team. I mean, look at her,” I say. Tak scores her fifth basket in a row, not even breaking a sweat. “Jeez. She’s a monster.”

Zim scratches his leg, ruffling his shorts. “Ehh, she’s just okay.”

“Can you do that?” 

“Do what?” Zim asks, leaning over. Our eyes are still locked onto Tak. 

“Body us in human sports,” I say. “Beat us at our own game?” 

“‘Can _you_ do _that_?’,” Zim repeats mockingly in a baby voice. “Of course I can. Watch.” Zim grabs a basketball and dribbles it towards the hoop opposite where Tak is playing. His form is less controlled than hers; the ball bounces higher than his height several times. He attempts to bounce it off the backboard, but ends up getting it stuck in that tiny tiny space between said board and the rim. For a minute he tries to jump to grab it. I kind of feel bad? He turns to me. “Can you?”

I jump off the bench. “Yeah.” I have this stupid smirk on my face, like I just won the biggest prize at a carnival game.

I’m way taller than Zim. It’s the most noticeable thing about us. I have peaked at a cool 5’11 (crazy, I know) while Zim has managed to squeeze himself to 5’2. I doubt he enjoys it, but he’s never really come up with a way to mitigate it. I’m sure he could bake something up in a lab if he really wanted to. Hmm. “This never happened,” he says, grumbling, as I toss the ball back to him. I like that he has to rely on me sometimes. Not in a weird way--I don’t know. It feels nice.

“Okay.” I slip my hands into my pockets. We eyeball each other for a few moments, me looking down at him, him up at me. Zim dribbles the ball in place a couple of times. What is he thinking? That’s what _I’m_ thinking about, until I realize that to everybody else we look super strange. I hustle us back to the bleachers. I don’t really care, but I don’t want rumors.

“There must be _someone_ here worth playing against,” Tak says, chucking her ball behind her head while walking forwards. “You. Let’s play.” She points towards one of the scrawny boys on the highest bench. They all recoil as the ball lands in the hoop with a _thunk_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile! Sorry it's taken so long. This has been in my drafts. I've wanted to finish this story, or at least advance it for awhile, but I've had a lot of life shit going on. I'll be changing some of the stuff I didn't like in previous chapters, although that should be quite minor. Ideally I'd like to hit eight chapters by the end of the year.


End file.
